


Last Respects

by Nadare



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Movie Spoilers, One Shot, One Year Later, Post-Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: Miles' attention was drawn to the nearby kitchen table that was littered with scattered photos of a single subject, following them from infancy to adulthood. He silently picked up one photo and stared at the blond-haired young man in a red and blue suit, his mask hanging from one hand as he held a proud May against his side.





	Last Respects

_A/N: I was not prepared to love this movie as much as I did. Kudos, Marvel, for finally dragging me into your world._

[Written on and off between 1/1/19 and 2/4/19]

\----------------------

**_“Last Respects”_ **

Miles rang the doorbell, nervously shifting on his feet as he waited for a response from within the house. He knew he was early, but thought because of what the day represented, tardiness would have been rude. The doorknob turned and May Parker opened the door, greeting Miles with a wide smile.  

“Well, don’t you look nice.” The simple suit and tie still felt strange. His parents had insisted it was the right attire for the occasion, that he looked smart and grown-up. Miles couldn’t help feeling like he was a kid again, playing dress-up. “I feel downright underdressed.”

May was wearing slacks and a sweater, the picture of casualness. Behind her, Miles could see partway into the kitchen where a cup of tea and a half-eaten bagel sat on the counter. “Well, come on in then. No use staying out in the cold.”

Stepping across the threshold, he surveyed the house’s interior. The last time Miles had visited, parts of it were still under renovation. Now if he hadn’t been part of the fight that had wrecked the living room, he would have never known a fight took place there. He wondered if May had done some of the work herself. Miles wouldn’t put it past her.

“I’ll be right back.” He nodded, watching May ascend to the second floor of the house before heading further into the living room. Framed snapshots of family and friends, past and present, adorned the walls. Signs of a well-lived life that promised years more.

Miles leaned closer to one photo that showed a small group in lab coats, May smiling among them. He was just starting to look at the other people when nearby footfalls on the stairs distracted him. True to her word, it had only taken her a few minutes to change into a dark gray pantsuit.

She slipped on a jacket and headed to the front door, looking at Miles expectedly. “Shall we go?”          

           

They walked into the church graveyard in silence, May slowing as they neared the correct row. She gave a soft gasp at the sight of the offerings people had left on Peter’s grave. While he hadn’t advertised his secret identity while operating as Spider-Man, having been unmasked posthumously, there was always a steady stream of fans wanting to pay their respects to the original web-slinger.

There was an overwhelming amount of gifts today, but given it was the one year anniversary of his death, Miles wasn’t surprised. He spied a touch of wetness in May’s eyes as she stopped before the tombstone, plainly touched by the admiration shown for her nephew.

It was such a simple marker for a superhero, just a name and the amount of time he’d lived. At first, Miles had wondered why there was no epitaph until he realized Peter’s actions spoke louder than words. Besides, his list of past feats wouldn’t have fit anyway. The people of the city remembered, which was all that mattered.

May took a deep breath. “Hello, Peter.” She softly patted the top of the tombstone, displacing the light layer of snow that covered it. “It’s good to see you again. I know it’s been a while. I always mean to visit more, but you know how it is.”

She glanced at Miles. “I brought a familiar face along with me.”

“Uh,” he started, feeling put on the spot. He’d visited numerous times before, mostly when trying to pump himself up for a confrontation. Suddenly having an audience was nerve-wracking. “Hi.”

May chuckled underneath her breath, taking a few steps back as if she knew her close proximity was the problem. It was stupid, yet seemed to work, Miles' stiff shoulders dropping as he relaxed.

“I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life. I know heroes are expected to make that kind of sacrifice, but no one ever stepped up like that for me…” The rest of the words stuck in his throat, Miles having to clear it before continuing.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” Miles said, May coming up beside him.

“A lot of people wouldn’t,” she added with a smile. “I like to think of it as Peter's legacy.” May laid a hand on Miles' shoulder for a moment, squeezing it lightly. “He would be pleased to know you’ve taken up his mantle so well.”

Miles slid his backpack off his other shoulder and knelt down, digging a hand into its depths. He pulled out the store-bought suit he’d brought the day after Peter had died. When his mind was moving a million miles an hour, he had no control over his powers, and Miles thought he could never live up to what had been lost.

He gently laid it against the tombstone and sat back on his heels. The ill-fitting costume was a testament to how far he’d come in the last year. “I’m still nowhere near your level, but I’m doing my best.”

An arm settled over his shoulders, May pulling Miles close. “Don’t pay any attention to that nonsense, Peter. Miles is handling things very well in your absence. He’s an amazing young man who I’m sure will go on to do greater things.” The last had been aimed his way, May’s gaze locked on Miles.

Heat burned his face, Miles slowly standing up. Her unwavering belief in him was both appreciated and vaguely troubling. Even though it was a weight on his shoulders he'd chosen to carry, that didn’t mean Miles wasn’t uneasy he wouldn’t measure up to May’s expectations of him.

No, that wasn’t quite right. The city’s expectations.   

Peter had made it look easy, even in his last moments. There’d been no fear, only acceptance that he had reached the end of the line. Miles shook off the memory, choosing to remember Peter as the hero he’d been. Still, he’d been a man too, and one remembered fondly by those left behind.  

May brushed off the rest of the snow from his tombstone, careful not to dislodge the few gifts that had been placed along the sides. “There you go, all better.”

Miles turned back towards the main path, not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a private moment. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Miles,” May called out. He glanced back, her warm expression temporarily catching him off-guard. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, touched by her gratitude. “You’re welcome.”

 

Back at May’s house, Miles walked into the kitchen, his attention drawn to the nearby table that littered with crumpled tissues and scattered photos of a single subject, following them from infancy to adulthood. He silently picked up one photo and stared at the blond-haired young man in a red and blue suit, his mask hanging from one hand as he held a proud May against his side.

Even trapped forever in film as a ghost, Peter's grin was bright and infectious, Miles feeling his own mouth curl up at the ends. May finished preparing some tea, walking back to the table. For the first time, Miles noticed her obvious lack of sleep, her eyes slightly puffy and red. He wondered how long she’d spent poring over the photographs before he’d arrived earlier that morning.

“…Did you ever want him to quit?” he asked quietly, May's gaze growing heavy upon him at the question.

She finally sighed. “I knew what Peter was getting into out there, even when he thought he was keeping it secret from me. Despite the danger involved, he loved being Spider-Man. Every time Peter donned the suit, there was a fierce joy in him I never saw any other time.

“He lived for it.” May shook her head as she placed her mug on the table, looking down at the images upon it with open affection. “I could never have taken it away from Peter. It would been like asking a bird to clip its wings.”

She chuckled. “Besides, while I may have lost a son, I unexpectedly gained something in return: a new family that is literally out of this world. I wouldn't trade that for anything, Miles.

“However, since everyone else can't be here safely, I'm afraid you’re going to have to take the brunt of my affection and let me spoil you.”

Shooting Miles a playful smile, May asked, “Can you live with that?”

He couldn’t help responding in kind. “I guess so.”

May’s laughter was a crisp refreshing sound, seeming to chase away the remaining shadows of the day.


End file.
